She's a dead beat mom, a one woman pogrom
A tri-polar paradigm, a lunatika time bomb
When everything is alright, she makes everything wrong
Living only to spite and spit napalm
She's a dead beat mom
She's a dead beat mom
She's a dead beat mom
She's a dead beat mom
A storm without a calm
VPA and [Bm]lithium is what she should be [Am]on
An emotional vacuum, a good vibe [Am]tampon
She got [Fm7]her degree in poisonous pedagogy
Taught by her mom
Someone stop her before she destɾoys
The childhoods of my [A]two boys
My sons mean everything to [C7]me
So I pray for [Dm7]some agency
To tell her that she's wrong
But the dead beat mom isn't able to [C7]hack it
She needs to [C7]be [Am]in a Prada stɾaight jacket
A padded ɾubber ɾoom is where she belong
It's the perfect place for, maybe [Am]add some mace for
The dead beat mom, she's my [A]Vietnam
I got [Fm7]PTSD and [Bm]an STD
Is everything okay?
No everything is wrong
Last week I saw her humming this song
She's a dead beat mom
She's a dead beat mom
She's a dead beat mom
She's a dead beat mom
